<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>Does it rain in Los Angeles? by Zanlinez</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23206696">Does it rain in Los Angeles?</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zanlinez/pseuds/Zanlinez'>Zanlinez</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>L.A. By Night (Web Series), Vampire: The Masquerade</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Other, Past Relationship(s), jeva</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-03-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-03-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 02:21:25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,372</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23206696</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zanlinez/pseuds/Zanlinez</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Jasper dealing with Eva leaving sometime after “Hollywood Forever”</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Jasper/Eva (L.A. by Night)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>12</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Does it rain in Los Angeles?</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Listening to LA by night again in the last few days and have not been able to get this idea out of my head. The quarantine away from work is causing more creative ideas to form.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>He sits at Griffith park observatory almost every night since she left. He has a vague idea of time these nights. Has it been days or months? He knows she wont be here but he waits anyway. Not for her but something else. He’s not sure what. The air smells of her so much tonight though. Flowers and rain. </p>
<p>His gaze moves from the city to his long clawed fingers dripping water. How many throats has he ripped apart with them? How many times has he held his knife to kill with them? To many now to count or remember. Truthfully, he doesn’t care. He rubs his chest as his eyes close. He can feel his rib cage as though he isn’t wearing clothes or even skin. It hurts. </p>
<p>He looks up at the city. He enjoyed looking at it from here. He spent years in the sewers, hiding behind walls and buildings. Always in the dark where no one wants to look. The first night he sat here, he looked at the city with such calm. But it wasn't the lights or sky that calmed him. It was her. She simply held out her hand with a smile and waited for him as she sat in this spot. He took her hand hesitantly as he sat next to her. He waited for her to flinch at his skin but she just moved closer, placing her head on his shoulder. She exhaled a contented breath as he inhaled at the same moment. Her scent was intoxicating. A mixture of rain, flowers, moonlight and something else. He doesn't breathe but he inhaled anyway until a calm settled with in him. He rubs his chest again. It hurts.</p>
<p>He doesn't see the city anymore. He sees her. So many firsts he won’t forget. The first time in the park with the others and she seemed to glow against the dark sky and trees. The first time she gave him a rose was confusing. The first time she kissed him they were floating in the labyrinth. The first time she looked hurt from meeting Chloe was the first time she left. That was the first time he felt a small part of this pain. He looks at his hands again thinking of the first time he barried his fingers in her hair as she brushed her cheek over his jaw. The first time he gave her the pendant. Her face lit up with such joy. She turned pulling and lifting her hair while slightly turning her head to glance at him. He felt her joy spread inside him as he helped with the clasp. He watched her eyes close as his fingers gently moved over her tracing from her neck down her shoulder as he let go of the chain. He thought his fingers would burn like the first time he unknowingly touched her. They did, but not from pain. He rubs his chest again. It hurts.</p>
<p>He knows what it feels to have a hole in his chest. That first week after waking from torpor has agony. Any sudden movement sent radiating pain everywhere. But it was worth it to see her face again. To have her hands search for his and hold them. To feel her fingers on his face, her lips brushing lightly over his. That pain was welcome just to feel the contentment she created in him. Everytime she would lean into him, he would slowly wrap his long arms around her and gently hold her. They were both safe and whole in those moments. He rubs his chest again. It hurts.</p>
<p>This pain in his chest is worse, so much worse. Every day that passed after waking from torpor, the pain had lessened. Every sharp stab was replaced with her joy, her smile, her touch, her peace. This pain is only growing. This pain is spreading over everything she left in him and he can't stop it. He can't force himself to heal like he always does. He feels the phone vibrate in his bag and ignores it. He's ignoring everyone now. Except his beast. Not even his beast can deal with this pain. It taunts him more now, urging him to just give in. </p>
<p><em>‘We were happier before. Doing what we wanted, drinking what we wanted, killing who we wanted. Dont be a pussy. She's gone. She ain't coming back and you know it. So just let me handle things from now on.’</em> He looks at his hands again and curls them into fists. He closes his eyes.</p>
<p>
  <em>She's coming back. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>‘No she ain't.’ </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>She promised.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>‘She ain't asshole.’</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>I promised. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>‘I didn't.’</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>I trust her.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> ‘I don't.’ </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>And when she comes back? </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>‘She ain't.’ </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>She’ll never forgive me. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>‘She ain't coming back.’ </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>She is. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>‘You're such a dumb fuck. She lied to you.’ </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>No. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>‘She didn't want you looking for her cause she didn't want you anymore.’ </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Stop it! Stop it! Stop it! </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>‘She turned you into this fucked up piece of shit and left you with me.’ </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Shut up!</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>’You dont deserve her.’ </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Shut up! Shut up! Shut up! </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>‘I'm what you deserve.’ </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Fuck you! </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>‘You know it's true.’ </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>No! She made things better. She's worth it!</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>‘You ain't worth it. This ain't better for you.’ </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>...Worth it, worth it, worth it... </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>‘Just let me out of here and I'll make everything better for you.’ </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>No, no, no! She’s worth it! Worth it, worth it, worth it... </em>
</p>
<p>His eyes and hands close even tighter as he rubs one fist on his chest and the other to his face. It hurts so much more tonight. The rain makes everything smell like her. He looks at his hands balled into fists wishing he could beat this hurt out of himself. Blood trails start mixing with the rain on his fingers. He thinks he might have punctured his palms with his broken nails but he didn’t feel it. He opens his hands and sees nothing. Just blood as the rain slowley washes it away. He looks down at his black hoodie but it's soaked with rain. He pulls on it and sees the blood spread on his fingers. <em>What the fuck? </em>He unzips it to feel under his shirt but there's nothing there. Then he stops. He realizes what it is. He pulls the hood from his sweater back and let's the rain wash his bald head and black veined face as he looks up. His face is streaked with blood tears. He hadn't realized what his own body had done. The pain he felt inside was so much he ignored everything else. </p>
<p>He begins laughing. Laughing at himself, at her, at everything said and unsaid between them. He can’t remember the last time he cried. It was definitely when he was human and alive full of hopes, dreams and possibilites. Not this monster of death. Now, here he sits in the rain looking at a city that never gets rain waiting for her to come back because he promised he wouldn't go looking for her. The laughter only brings more tears. He wishes he could just stay here and watch the sunrise. That would make the pain stop. That would make everything stop. He falls back to the ground and looks up. He recalls her wish to float up and become a star promising to bring him along. She could see a light in him also. There are no stars out there now. He can’t see the light she saw. He'll have to wait for her light again. Months or years just to float away with her. He would for her. Anything for her.</p>
<p>He gets to his feet and looks over the city. He'll come back tomorrow and wait knowing the pain will be waiting with him. He wont try and fight this pain anymore. It's to important to feel her even like this. She's worth feeling all of this every night until she comes back. She always made things better for him. Things were always clearer when she was around. He closes his eyes and inhales deeply. Things are clearer tonight with the rain. He pulls his hood up and makes his way back to his haven.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Watching Eva leave and Jasper’s reaction made my chest hurt. I started a playlist of “ what would a guy sitting in the rain with a hole in his chest listen to as he looked over the L.A. skyline?” That playlist turned into this story and I had to get it out. I think I prefer to explore the emotional and psychological state of mind of one character. Everyone knows what it feels like to be left behind.</p></blockquote></div></div>
</body>
</html>